


The Flesh-n-Bone Wars

by Selden



Category: 19th Century CE Palaeontology RPF
Genre: Flirting through dinosaurs, Gen, Kidnapping, Maltreatment of a giant reptile from the Cretaceous, Moustache-related innuendo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 05:28:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5117273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selden/pseuds/Selden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Necromancy + dinosaurs.</p><p>Step 1: ponder!<br/>Step 2: reanimate!<br/>Step 3: ???<br/>Step 4: profit! (And show up that bounder Marsh. That too.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Flesh-n-Bone Wars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dayadhvam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dayadhvam/gifts).



Othniel Charles Marsh came to consciousness slowly. His brain (always, naturally, capacious) felt about two sizes too big for its skull-casing, and he had a nasty pounding headache. He also appeared to be wearing a burlap sack over his head.

He must have given some indication of his return to consciousness, for the sack was whipped off his head and he was confronted with the grinning face of his greatest rival and fellow dinosaur hunter, the infuriating, unbearable, and fascinating Charles Drinker Cope.

"Do you see?!" Cope demanded, shaking him by the shoulders.

"I see that you appear to have decided to kidnap and manhandle me," Marsh retorted. Truly, at the present moment he could see little but the buttons of Cope's waistcoat. He was conscious, however, of a remarkably intense fishy odour. Were they by the docks?

"Nothing less was capable of cutting through your pigheadedness," said Cope. "Or should I say _bone_ headedness? That same boneheadedness which saw you claim that I had reconstructed my sweet Elasmosaurus with its poor head affixed to its tail! But now, my dear chap, we are no longer dealing in _bones_!"

And he stepped aside with a triumphant flourish, finally removing the front of his waistcoat from Marsh's immediate vicinity and allowing him to take a view of the surroundings. They were indeed in some manner of warehouse. More significantly, the source of the fishy odour became immediately apparent.

There, about twenty feet in front of them and contained within a pentacle which flickered with eldritch fire, was about fifty feet's worth of prehistoric marine reptile, looking exceedingly unhappy with its lot. It was particularly unhappy, Marsh surmised, because its head was, quite obviously, attached to the end of its tail.

"I merely pointed out that the vertebrae were orientated backwards," said Marsh faintly. "I even got a second opinion!"

"Well," said Cope viciously, gesturing towards his Cretacean revenant, "second opinion _this_!"

Marsh blinked up at Cope. "But my dear Edward," he said blankly, "it is quite plain to see that the poor creature's head is attached to its tail. Look, it is attempting to move backwards."

And indeed, the Elasmosaurus was endeavouring to scull with its great green flippers in entirely the wrong direction, with a look of extreme bewilderment on its rather horsey face.

Cope stared up at it, his mouth falling open.

"Would it not be more profitable to remark upon the extraordinary revision to man's conception and practice of Science, that must follow close upon the occasion of raising the dead?" ventured Marsh. He had seldom seen Edward so undone, not even when some circumstances relating to their friendship in Berlin had caused him to rethink certain deeply-held articles of self-belief.

The Elasmosaurus, thrashing unhappily backwards, crossed the boundary of the pentacle, and fell immediately to the floor in a clatter of enormous ancient bones.

Cope made a tiny sound. Marsh half-though he saw his moustaches lose their stiffness in the space of an instant. He did not look furious; he looked defeated.

Fortunately, Cope was a decidedly amateur kidnapper. Marsh had freed his hands from their bonds shortly after he woke up, and now he leapt from his seat, plunging past the dumbfounded Cope to where a large and occult-looking volume lurked in a circle of burnt-down candles. Seizing this tome and clasping it to his chest, he turned triumphantly to Cope.

"Your grimoire, Mr Cope, I presume?" he said, with all the flourish he could muster. "I think you may find that your monopoly on Saurian resurrection will shortly be coming to an ignominious close!"

"I have a copy, fool," said Cope. He was looking better already.

"Nevertheless!" cried Marsh. "You may been first with this one, but who will remember that when I have rendered the creatures animate even outside the pentacle? When I have revived all eighty feet of Brontosaurus?"

"Pshaw! What price a Brontosaurus to, say, a Tyrannosaurus rex?" asked Cope. His moustaches had entirely recovered their vigour, Marsh was pleased to note.

"Well," said Marsh, backing away gingerly across scattered Elasmosaurus bones, "May the best man win!"

"For once, my dear chap," said Cope grimly, "I completely agree!" His moustaches flashed in the lamplight, quite erect.

Marsh made his escape, warmly conscious of a job well done, and anticipating a most interesting future. Perhaps a member of the family Triceratops, to begin with. It would hardly satisfy Edward, after all, if he started small.

 


End file.
